


Evil Dreams

by Miso



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Dr. Robotnik Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mention of Animal Death, Nightmares, yall ever wonder why ivo doesnt sleep? this is why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23275612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miso/pseuds/Miso
Summary: There were a few reasons Robotnik avoided sleeping as much as possible.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 8
Kudos: 160





	Evil Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> hey yeah this ship still has me by the tits!
> 
> so according to jim carrey robotnik is actually deeply depressed and traumatized and his main reason for hunting down sonic is that he wants to crush the innocence and love in him the same way his [robotnik's] was, and he feels worthless and rejected by the world so, y'know, im just gonna take that ball and run with it for a few miles

There were a few reasons Robotnik avoided sleeping as much as possible. First of all, it got in the way of other, more important things, like finishing his latest prototype or making some kind of breakthrough he would keep to himself because, you know, evil. There was important work that needed done every second of every day, and sleeping seemed like a waste of time in comparison.

Worse than that, though, it left him vulnerable. Not only to any would-be assassins, or intruders (though he was sure that if his four different security systems and attack Badniks failed to stop such a person, Stone would be quick to jump to his defense), but to his own mind. 

He chose not to talk about it much, but there were things from Ivo's childhood that haunted him.

The oversized boy that tormented him in his third school in as many years, who called him skinny and weak and stupid and stuck-up and a teacher's pet and an orphan, who pushed him down on the playground and eventually decided to punch him in the eye in the lunchroom and pour the chocolate milk from his lunch over him, a slight that Ivo took as a cue to build one of his first robots that left the boy little more than a broken red smear on the blacktop and sent him straight back into the system after his foster family decided he was just too much. 

The years spent flitting in and out of state homes and foster families, where he was never accepted, never taken in, never loved the way a growing boy should be. 

The four-and-three-quarters years he spent with his biological parents, negligent if not outright abusive, hit and burned with cigarettes and treated like dog shit on the heels of their boots before the state stepped in and took custody of him, changed his name for his own good (not that those good-for-nothing monsters he had the misfortune of being born to would come looking anyway).

The day he came downstairs in one of those state homes to feed his guinea pigs and found them with their necks snapped by one of the older, bigger boys, merely to torment him, and how that day he learned loving things only got you hurt.

The behaviorists and therapists and psychologists who told foster parent after foster parent that he "was such a bright boy" and "so incredibly intelligent" but that "his behavioral problems are worrying" and "he's displaying psychopathic tendencies; you're going to want to do something about that," and the foster families that did absolutely nothing when he was, on the inside, screaming for help.

All of it kept him awake at night, and when he did sleep- when he _could_ sleep- it haunted his dreams. The trauma infected his subconscious in more ways than one. Sometimes, it was straightforward, and he was back in the body of a trembling, too-thin and too-tall and too-lanky middle school boy being beaten down by his peers. Those were easy enough to deal with. He would wake up, look around the room, get a glimpse of himself in a mirror, and breathe a quiet sigh of relief before curling back up and going back to sleep. Those were just dreams, and he could logically convince himself that they weren't actively happening.

Other times, though, they weren't so simple.

Like tonight.

With a jolt and a yelp, Ivo sat bolt upright in bed, a cold sweat coating his body and sticking a loose lock of hair to his forehead. Panting and running his hand through his hair, he gritted his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut tight, and tried not to cry. Instead, he chose to filter his emotions into anger.

"FUCK!"

He ripped himself out of bed and began pacing the room, tugging at his hair and repeating curses in at least four different languages. The dream was still fresh, like a bleeding wound, and it felt uncomfortably real. He'd been arguing with Stone over something ridiculous, exactly what he wasn't sure of, and it had escalated into a screaming match that ended with Stone- his anchor to what was left of his sanity, the shelter from the storm that was his mind, his everything- shouting at him that _he had never loved him, no one ever could, he was worthless and useless and good for nothing and that he should just fuck off and die_. He'd jolted awake when the door slammed behind his agent, and in the uncomfortable silence and darkness of the bedroom, he hadn't felt nor heard Stone in bed beside him. Half-asleep, half-panicked, he wondered if it hadn't really happened, if he'd finally gone and done it and driven away the one person on _this entire godforsaken planet, maybe in the whole of the universe, maybe in ANY universe_ that actually seemed to care about him, that would ever care about him, that _could_ ever care about him, and he was a fucking moron for ever thinking anyone could love his worthless ass, stupid stupid stupid stupid-

"Ivo?"

A hoarse, sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts. Snapped out of his spiral, he realized a few things; his scalp was starting to hurt from how hard he'd been pulling his hair. Sweat was pouring in rivulets over his body. His shirt was sticking to his back and chest, drenched with perspiration. Worst of all, he wasn't sure, of the moisture on his face, what was sweat and what was tears. He turned towards the source of the voice.

Illuminated by the hallway light like some kind of angel, Stone rubbed his eyes sleepily and yawned. "What's the matter? It sounded like you were crying," he murmured, half-asleep still, before running a tired hand through his hair. "Are you okay...?"

A rush of sickening emotion washed over the Doctor. _He's still here._ He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, and took a hesitant step closer to Stone, like he was afraid one wrong move would make him vanish. He reached out and touched him, hesitantly at first, one hand on a well-muscled shoulder. _He's real._ And with that, he practically collapsed into his agent's arms.

"Hey, hey, easy," Stone murmured, managing to- just barely- keep Robotnik upright. "Easy. What happened...?"

"Where did you go?"

"I was just getting some water," Stone answered, his voice still raspy and drowsy. "And I heard you crying right when I was about to come back."

"I... I had a horrific dream, Aban. I would prefer not to go into detail." Robotnik cleared his throat. "But when I woke up and you weren't there, I... I thought for a minute it was real. I thought maybe you had finally come to your senses and... and decided enough was enough."

From where he'd pressed his face into Stone's neck, Robotnik couldn't see the concern on his face, but he could more than hear it in his voice. "Aw, Ivo..." Effortlessly, Stone wrapped his arms around Ivo and carried him- bridal style, and while he would never admit it, Robotnik loved how easy it was for Stone to just casually scoop him up like he weighed nothing- back into bed. "Come here."

Stone was the only person who got to see him like this. To the rest of the world, Ivo was dangerous, unhinged, a mad scientist whose genius was undeniable but whose ethics were questionable. Sure, all of that was true, it always would be... but no one else got to know that there was, on some level, under all the ice around his heart, a softer side. A side that was still a frightened, lonely little boy desperate to prove his worth to a world that had never seemed to want him. Robotnik heeded the whisper to 'come here' and did exactly that, scooting in closer to his partner. Shaking, he clung onto Aban, and felt warm, strong arms wrap around him in turn, a hand on the back of his head.

"You can cry some more, if you need to," Stone murmured, pressing a kiss to Ivo's temple. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be here." His touch was so gentle, his words so sincere, that despite Robotnik's efforts to stop the tears, they came anyway. One tear, then a few, then several more, until he was a whimpering, sobbing wreck in his agent's arms.

It felt like an eternity before he started to come down. The world swam for a fleeting second as Robotnik tried to take a few deep breaths, fill his lungs to capacity, get enough oxygen in his brain one way or another. Hyperventilating was a useless endeavor; there was no benefit to it in his situation. Instead, he tried to focus on the concrete facts. _I am in my bedroom. The sheets are black and gray. My pants are blue. Aban is here. His pants are red and white._ With another long, deep breath, he swallowed hard, and felt thick fingers stroke through his hair. "Doing okay, baby?" Stone murmured to him, lips on his temple again.

Baby. Normally, he would object to the use of a pet name, and demand that Stone refer to him by his proper name, or as 'Doctor'. Right now, though, Robotnik couldn't care less. He nodded a little, nuzzling Stone's shoulder- he smelled like clean linen and that lavender body wash he liked- and he could feel his pulse slowing, his breathing even out. He would have loved to have had reads on his vitals five minutes ago.

"You sure you don't wanna talk about that dream, Ivo?"

"Mmhm." Words were hard right now. Instead, Robotnik opted to keep his face hidden in Stone's shoulder. He felt safer there. Stone wouldn't judge him. Stone would hold him and settle his restless soul. "I... Aban, I-"

"Shh. I know. I love you, too." Robotnik had always had trouble spitting out anything similar to 'I love you.' Stone didn't mind. He wasn't dumb; he could easily fill in the blanks and finish the sentiment. "I love you so, so much."

"... That... means more to me than I can articulate, Aban."

Stone smiled, that beautiful sunshine smile that sent even the most ruthless heart aflutter. "Glad to hear it. Think you can get back to sleep?"

A nod. The pair lay down, not touching at first, before Robotnik let out a little sigh of defeat. "Never tell anyone about what I'm about to do," he murmured, before curling up close to Stone, kitten-like. He lay an arm over his partner's muscular abdomen with his hand coming to rest on his chest. He threaded his fingers through the downy black curls that dusted Stone's chest, let out a heavy but content sigh, and closed his sore, swollen eyes.

Stone let out a little chuckle. "Wouldn't dream of it, doc," he murmured. "Get some rest."


End file.
